


Movie Night

by Irish_Winchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Age Swap, Angry Sam Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Older Sam, Protective Sam Winchester, Younger Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4668728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irish_Winchester/pseuds/Irish_Winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam gets home from a hunt and is less than pleased at what he sees when it's supposed to be a good day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Movie Night

**Author's Note:**

> Sam's POV. can be read as Wincest if you squint. I own nothing but the plot.

I unlock the door, pushing my way inside. Hunting truly did suck some days more than others. Today was one of those days. Not only did I have to go on a hunt on this day, but alone? I may be seventeen but I'd still like some backup when I'm out there. Dad can be crazy when it comes to these 'safe' game plays he comes up with.

Opening the door, I step over the ledge of salt and drop my bag on the ground. Shutting the door I can see Dean, head down while he does the routine. Clean guns, check ammo, the works. I sit across from him on the other bed, grabbing a small handgun and checking it over. I can hear Dad walking around somewhere in the motel room, and it isn't long until he shuffles out of the bathroom, slinging a small bag over his shoulders. Tensing slightly, I can see Dean do the same. I know what our father is capable of.

Sadly Dean knows better than me.

"Be back later," he grounds out, and is slamming the door shut behind him before either of us could state our thoughts or opinions on the matter. I roll my eyes, huffing out a breath as I turn back to the gun. Dean's head is still down when he breaks the silence.

"How'd the hunt go?" I smile crookedly.  

"Great! Got it done and done, in and out," I can just make out a grin on his downcast features.

"Nice, good job, Sam," I smile; he may be younger, and he might say it after every hunt, but it feels good to hear anyway.

"Thanks," I pause, just taking him in for a moment or two. He's usually more active than this- even when Dad is still around. But right now he's sitting down, head laid low, moving hesitant-like. Slow. It puts a sinking feeling into my gut. I manage to catch a glimpse of his face when he turns to get a new gun, and when he stands and turns his back, I'm already there. I grab his shoulder, spinning him back around to face me. I suck in a gasp, and bite my lip to silence it. Dean has a black eye, split lip, and a cut on his lower forehead. He did it again. The bastard did it again.

"The fucker," I hiss, eyes and body filling with rage. I notice my little brother's eyes fill with fear, and I let my own soften. Reaching up with both hands, I cradle his face. I gently trace where the purple-black meets light tan of under his eyes with my thumb. I feel my heart clench when he flinches. His eyes close, so I try to ease up.

"Dean," I say gently, and his eyes open to look at me, before going downcast.

"'M sorry," he whispers, and I shake my head, lifting his back up. "Don't be, Dean," I put my hand over his mouth when he tries to open it to object again.

"No, listen to me; that- this- is NOT okay," I gesture to his injuries. "Fathers shouldn't abuse their kids. Kiddo, you don't deserve this," I remove my hand, and he looks up at me, eyes broken and dull.

"But Dad said-" I cut him off, shaking my head again. "Dad can go fuck himself for all I care," I sigh, some of my anger being released. For now.

"Just let me take care of John, okay?" Dean seems hesitant, but nods his head. Smiling softly at him, I squeeze his shoulder. "Good, now let's relax then, yeah?"

He smiles, nodding more enthusiastically this time. Grinning, I pick up the guns, and set them on the table. They can wait. Once they're all off the beds and the room is cleared of everything related to hunting, I grab my duffle, shifting through it until I can reach a small wrapped present from it. Smiling, I turn back to Dean and toss it to him. He catches it before looking at it in confusion.

I swear my heart breaks a little more right then and there. When he still doesn't seem to get it, I can't take it anymore.

Walking over quickly, I wrap my arms around him in a hug. Dean sucks in a breath of surprise, and tenses slightly. He relaxes when he realizes it's just me, and looks up at me, raising an eyebrow.

"You really don't know what day it is?" I pray for the answer to be, 'just kidding' or 'gotcha!'. All he does is shake his head no. I take out my phone, silently showing him the date. January 24th. His eyes go wide and suddenly he's sucking in a breath, looking up to me before his eyes go back to the date displayed on the small screen.

"Oh," he says softly, and I nod, smiling sadly, "Yeah, 'oh'," Ruffling his hair, I guide him towards the bed. I sit him down, handing the present back to him.

"Open it, Dean," As he does, I bite my lip as I sit on the other mattress. He glances at me, before ripping the rest of the wrapping open. I know the exact moment he comprehends what it is, because his gaze snaps over to me, before looking back to the movie I bought him. Dean looks at me again, and I grin.

"Are you serious?" I nod, smirking.

"Do you like it?" I ask, biting my lip in the tension. He looks at me as if I've lost my mind.

"Do... Do I?" he laughs, and my heart warms at the sight and sound of it. Dean tackles me into a hug, and I shut my eyes as I wrap my arms around him; content to hold him in my arms. Maybe forever if I could. Then I know he'd be safe. My contentment is ruined shortly after, however, when Dean pulls away slightly to be able to look at me.

"I've been wanting to see this since it came out in theatres!" he exclaims, and I laugh, my hands settling on his back.

"I know," I nod, "And then I saw it on that last hunt, so I just thought..." I shrug, laughing when he hugs me again.

"Well? What'dya say we watch it?" he nods, jumping up and turning off the lights, putting the movie in the DVD player. I head to the kitchen, grabbing sodas from the fridge and store-bought popcorn from the cabinet. Setting the drinks down on the counter, I rip open the bag and pour nearly all of the popcorn in the biggest bowl I could find. We usually use it for water when cleaning wounds, but it's not dirty. I shut off the oven light, grabbing the cans with one hand and the bowl with the other. I walk back to Dean, who's lying back against the headboard of the bed furthest from the door, reading the back of the movie box. He looks up at me and smiles, moving over so there's room for me to sit next to him. I hand him the beverage, smiling as I plop down next to him on the lumpy, motel mattress.

I put the bowl full of popcorn in between us, and lean over; turning off the last light until we're consumed in darkness; only the TV screen illuminating the room. Dean presses a button on the remote, and the movie starts soon after.

_'Mutation...'_ Dean grins, and I smile softly at him. Little nerd.

******

When there's only a few minutes left of the movie, I glance at Dean. His eyes are closed, and his head in resting on my shoulder. His breathing is slow and deep. Asleep. I smile at him gently, but it fades when the TV illuminates the cuts and bruises marring his face. I gently trace the black eye for the second time, and he sighs; moving closer to me in his sleep. Wrapping an arm around Dean's shoulders, I pull him closer to me. I stop the movie, putting the now empty pop cans in the also empty popcorn bowl, setting it on the nightstand next to me. Turning the television off completely, I set the remote down before lying on my back; taking Dean down with me. He stirs slightly, raising his head up to look around in the darkness.

"Sam?" I wrap both my arms around him, bringing his head down so it rests against my chest.

"Right here, Dean," I whisper, and his body goes lax at my side; his head a heavy, yet reassuring weight on my chest. "Thanks for the birthday," he whispers back, and I run a hand through his hair, arms tightening around him.

"Happy birthday, little brother," and I both hear and feel his breathing even out as he surrenders to his subconscious.

"Goodnight Dean," he only sighs in his sleep, it being his response. I sigh myself, my eyes closing shut. Besides the fact our asshole of a father hit my little brother, I have to admit; it's not that bad of a day at all. I'm content, with Dean in my arms. I fall asleep, my last thought being-

What else is there to be content about?


End file.
